


These Are the Raw Materials

by enigmaticblue



Series: Sun 'Verse [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 13:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas didn't know anything about celebrating Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Are the Raw Materials

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the Over the Rhine song, "Amelia's Song."

Cas stepped out of the house and pulled in a deep breath of the clean, cold December air, trying to clear the odor of sickness and death from his nose. The scent lingered, and Cas rubbed his eyes wearily.

 

Maryanne stepped out of the house behind him, patting him comfortingly on the back. “Thank you for coming, Cas.”

 

“I didn’t do anything,” he protested. Failure had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

 

“Bridget’s sleeping peacefully,” Maryanne replied quietly. “Lyle told me that she hasn’t been able to sleep in a week because of the pain.”

 

Cas sighed, remembering all too well how it had felt to watch Dean feverish and in pain, and praying desperately that he might rest and heal. He understood what Lyle was gong through. The difference being that Dean had recovered, and Bridget would not.

 

“I can’t stop the sickness. That will take a true miracle,” Cas said heavily. “And I cannot perform miracles.”

 

“Sometimes hope is all we can offer,” Maryanne replied, her hand not leaving his back. “It’s just too bad Bridget had to take a turn for the worse now.”

 

Cas frowned, not understanding the significance of the date, or how losing someone would be better or worse at any given time; it was always hard. “Why is _now_ a bad time?”

 

Maryanne raised her eyebrows, clearly surprised. “Christmas is in two weeks.”

 

Cas thought for a moment. “I see. It is more difficult to miss people during the holidays,” he observed.

 

He _had_ noticed that Dean was quieter lately, and the children had been more listless, quarreling with little provocation. Cas just hadn’t realized the significance of the date.

 

“What did you do for Christmas last year?” Maryanne asked as they climbed into her truck.

 

Cas looked off into the distance. Last year, Dean had still been recovering from his injuries, in pain and querulous with it. Bobby and Ben had been sick, so sick that the holiday passed unremarked. Dean certainly hadn’t said anything, and Cas wouldn’t have had the first idea what to do to celebrate Christmas.

 

“Nothing,” Cas finally admitted. “Bobby and Ben were sick, and Dean was still in a lot of pain. And I think—I think Dean misses his brother.”

 

Maryanne sighed. “’Tis the season,” she agreed, her own expression melancholy, before she smiled. “You’ve got three kids this year, Cas, and Christmas is for kids.”

 

Cas grimaced. “Maryanne, we don’t—we don’t have much money, and I don’t know anything about celebrating Christmas.”

 

“What about Dean?” she asked as they bounced down the rutted road.

 

“Dean didn’t exactly have what you might call a conventional childhood,” Cas replied dryly.

 

Maryanne glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. “And you didn’t have a childhood at all, did you?”

 

Cas felt a smile pull at his lips. “Not as such, no.” He sighed. “Dean has been in a terrible mood lately. I’m not sure he’ll be amenable to a Christmas celebration.”

 

Maryanne patted his hand. “You just leave Dean to me, then.”

 

And now Cas did smile, because if there was anyone who could chivvy Dean into doing precisely what she wanted, it was Maryanne.

 

He looked out over the fallow, snow dusted fields and thought of Bridget’s gaunt, pale face, and her husband’s hopeful eyes, and he wished he could do more.

 

~~~~~

 

Cas forgot about Maryanne’s promise over the next couple of days. Dean was surly, stomping around the house and slamming doors. Henry and Ben were at each other’s throats, fighting over every imagined look or slight or inadvertent—and not so inadvertent—touch. Mary clung to Cas, unwilling to go more than six inches from his side.

 

It all came to a head the day that Maryanne turned up at their place.

 

The day had started poorly, with Dean stumbling over a toy in the hallway first thing in the morning. Cas heard the crash, and he came running out of their bedroom to see Dean sprawled on the floor, and the offending item—it looked like the remains of a Lego structure—scattered across the carpet.

 

Dean swore loudly and shouted, “Kids! Get your asses out here!”

 

Cas winced. “Dean, why don’t we wait?”

 

“They’ve gotta learn,” Dean replied savagely, ignoring the helping hand that Cas offered. “Dammit!”

 

The three kids slowly emerged from their rooms, their eyes darting from the Legos on the floor to Dean’s angry expression and back again. Cas could see the tears already forming in Mary’s eyes, and he said a brief prayer for patience—although he wasn’t sure whether he was asking for himself or for Dean.

 

“Somebody want to tell me what these were doing in the middle of the hallway?” Dean demanded.

 

A fat tear trickled down Mary’s cheek. Henry and Ben looked everywhere _but_ at Dean, whose face softened slightly when he saw Mary’s expression. “Cas, take Mary downstairs. I know she wasn’t responsible for this.”

 

Cas held out his arms, and Mary ran to him, burying her face in Cas’ neck and clinging tightly. He really wished Dean hadn’t upset her so early in the day; she’d be impossible to settle.

 

He could hear Dean yelling from the kitchen, dressing the boys down, and Cas sighed, wondering if it was too late to sneak away and find a place to hide out.

 

Mary sniffled into his shoulder and pulled back. “My fault,” she signed. “I saw it last night and didn’t pick it up.”

 

“You’re not responsible for picking up their messes,” Cas replied. “Do you want breakfast?”

 

She shook her head and hung tightly to him.

 

“All right,” Cas murmured. “We’ll just sit here for a bit.”

 

Dean came limping into the room a couple of minutes later. “They’re picking them up.”

 

“Don’t you think you were a little harsh?” Cas asked.

 

“No, I don’t,” Dean shot back. “Someone could have broken their fucking necks tripping over that shit, so don’t you start with me.”

 

Cas felt his own rising temper. “I wasn’t aware I’d started anything.” He kept his voice even with some effort, but he met Dean’s eyes in a clear challenge.

 

They didn’t fight in front of the kids, not ever, but Cas thought it might happen today.

 

Dean looked at the floor. “You want breakfast?”

 

“Mary isn’t hungry,” Cas said quietly. “I’m not sure we have enough eggs, so maybe toast or oatmeal.”

 

“I’ll make oatmeal,” Dean replied.

 

Cas didn’t think he could handle dealing with anyone other than Mary right now, so he rose with her still in his arms, even though she was starting to get heavy. He grabbed her favorite book of the moment and settled down on their threadbare couch. It was one Maryanne had given her, and although the boys made gagging sounds when he read it because it was “too girly,” and Dean grimaced, Cas liked it.

 

After all, Cas had very little experience with little girls, and he viewed the book as research of a sort, which he enjoyed.

 

“All right,” he murmured. “Chapter 15: _‘November is the most disagreeable month in the whole year,’ said Margaret, standing at the window one dull afternoon, looking out at the frostbitten garden. ‘That's the reason I was born in it,’ observed Jo pensively, quite unconscious of the blot on her nose._ ’”

 

Mary calmed as Cas read. Her breath stopped hitching, and she shifted to get comfortable. Out of the corner of his eye, Cas saw Dean hovering in the doorway, but he refused to acknowledge him. Cas focused on the story, letting the words take him to another place and time.

 

Cas thought the day might be salvaged until he heard angry shouts from the kitchen. Dean, who had moved from the doorway to the recliner, pushed himself up, limping down the hall as quickly as he could. Cas put the book aside and shifted Mary off his lap. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

 

Dean was trying to pull Henry off of Ben. Henry’s arms and legs were flailing wildly as he shouted, “Take it back! Take it back, butthead!”

 

“Stop it!” Dean snapped, trying to get a better grip on the squirming body. “Henry, settle down!”

 

Ben was on his feet now, a small trickle of blood coming from his bottom lip. “I’m not going to take it back, because you’re still a pussy.”

 

Henry tried to launch himself at Ben again, and Dean put him in a headlock. “Henry, Ben, that’s enough! Settle down!”

 

“Ben!” Cas said sharply. “Take a walk. Outside.”

 

“It’s cold outside!” Ben whined.

 

“You should have thought of that before you provoked Henry. Don’t come back until you can get along with your brother,” Dean snaps.

 

“He’s not my brother!” Henry protested angrily. “And you’re not my father! I want my mom!” And then he burst into tears.

 

Cas and Dean stared at one another, Dean appearing as helpless as Cas felt. Mary stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and shocked, and her bottom lip began to tremble.

 

“Oh, hell,” Dean muttered.

 

“Switch?” Cas suggested.

 

Dean nodded and handed Henry off to Cas, who wondered how many kids he’d have to comfort today. Cas took the boy into the study and sat down in one of the chairs, rocking Henry slowly. “Hush now,” Cas murmured, hearing Dean’s voice drifting down the hall, picking up where Cas had left off in the book. “Hush now,” Cas repeated.

 

“I didn’t mean it,” Henry said, sobbing in earnest now. “Please don’t send me away.”

 

“Why would we do that?” Cas asked, feeling as though he was completely out of his depth. “You’re one of us now.”

 

Henry’s small fists gripped the front of Cas’ t-shirt. “I miss my mom.”

 

From what Cas understood, Henry’s mother had not been a particularly good parent, but then again, Cas had not entirely given up on his father, even though all evidence suggested that God was gone and never coming back.

 

“I miss my father,” Cas finally said. “And I believe that Dean misses his parents. It isn’t something that ever goes away, but we learn to live with it.”

 

Henry cried himself out against Cas’ chest, and then fell asleep. Cas settled Henry down on the couch and threw a blanket over him with one last caress of Henry’s dark blond hair.

 

When Cas returned to the living room, Dean was finishing up another chapter, and Ben was stretched out on the floor, his expression a little sullen but calm.

 

“Can we read another book?” Ben asked plaintively. “That one is for girls.”

 

Mary lifted her head to glare at him, and she made a rather rude gesture that Cas didn’t realize she knew.

 

Dean laughed. “It’s up to Mary. She’s the only one who’s been behaving like a civilized person today.”

 

Cas cleared his throat pointedly.

 

“Well, Mary and Cas,” Dean corrected himself.

 

“We can read something else,” Mary signed magnanimously. She scrambled off of Dean’s lap to return with a battered copy of _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone_.

 

“All right. I think we’ve got time for a couple of chapters before lunch.”

 

Cas loved Dean’s voice, and he closed his eyes, listening to the rhythm and cadence of the words more than the story itself.

 

Besides, all three kids loved Harry Potter, and this wasn’t the first time Cas had heard or read the book.

 

When noon came, Cas made sandwiches and woke Henry to eat. All three children were subdued, and there still seemed to be a lot of tension between Henry and Ben, but there were no eruptions. They’d just finished lunch when Cas heard the sound of a vehicle coming up the gravel drive.

 

Dean frowned. “Great. Who the hell could that be?”

 

He limped outside with Cas close behind him, and as soon as Cas saw Maryanne’s truck, he remembered her promise.

 

This was going to be interesting.

 

Maryanne climbed out of the cab, waving at them cheerily. “Oh, good. You boys are home. I wanted to speak to you.”

 

Dean frowned. “About what?”

 

Maryanne patted Dean’s cheek. “About the upcoming holiday. Is there a place we can talk?”

 

For a moment, Cas thought that Dean would refuse, just out of sheer stubbornness, but then he said, “Yeah, let’s go inside. We can use the study.” He led the way, and they found all three kids hovering in the hallway, clearly curious.

 

“Ben, maybe you could keep reading to Mary and Henry,” Dean suggested, his tone making it more of an order than a suggestion.

 

Ben’s expression was a bit rebellious, but his native courtesy won out. “Okay, Dad.”

 

Ben wouldn’t argue with Dean in front of company, and Maryanne still counted as company. Cas just hoped that continued.

 

They left the kids in the living room and Maryanne led the way into the study. “Christmas is coming up,” she said without preamble.

 

Dean’s expression went completely blank. “Maryanne—”

 

“Christmas is for children, Dean,” Maryanne said quietly, repeating what she’d said to Cas, and holding out an envelope. “And I’m here to tell you I’ll stay with the kids while you go shopping in Rapid City, or Sioux Falls, or wherever the urge takes you.”

 

When Dean didn’t move to accept the envelope, Cas took it and glanced inside. “Maryanne—”

 

“How many people have you helped without asking for compensation?” Maryanne demanded. “And how many machines have you fixed without asking for anything in return?” she asked Dean.

 

Dean shrugged. “What does it matter?”

 

“It matters because you took a local boy in without any thought of getting paid for it,” Maryanne said sharply. “It _matters_ because you’re a part of the community, and we take care of our own around here, which means that your kids get a Christmas. It _matters_ because you’re going to buy presents while I help the kids decorate.”

 

Maryanne just got more intense as she spoke, and Cas didn’t think even Dean could say no to her.

 

“Maryanne,” Dean began.

 

She reached out to put her hand over Dean’s. “Your kids are the closest thing I’ll ever have to grandchildren, Dean. Help me give them a Christmas they’ll remember.”

 

That was exactly the right tack to take with Dean, who flushed and nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

 

“Good,” she said with a nod, as though that settled it. “Now, do you boys have anything else going on over the next couple of days?”

 

They glanced at each other, and Cas shrugged even as Dean shook his head. “No, nothing important,” Dean admitted.

 

“Good. Then you can leave today,” Maryanne said, obviously satisfied with how well her plan had been executed.

 

Cas felt a pang. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” he said slowly. “They’ve been—difficult.”

 

Maryanne smiled. “Which is all the more reason for you to take a break. I’ll keep ‘em busy, and they always behave for me.”

 

Dean appeared dubious, but he finally nodded. “You’re probably right. Thanks.”

 

“Think nothing of it,” she replied airily. “We’ll have a grand old time.”

 

It didn’t take long for them to each pack a bag. On a whim, while Dean was giving last minute instructions to the kids, Cas grabbed the bottle of Jack he’d been saving for a special occasion. Ernest had pressed it on him after Cas had prayed over his ailing mother, and even though Cas had initially refused, Ernest had insisted.

 

Cas didn’t understand his desire to surprise Dean, but he thought this might be as good a time as any, and he suspected that Dean would need to be inebriated to talk about Sam.

 

And Cas was fairly certain that missing Sam was at the heart of Dean’s perpetual bad mood of late.

 

After a round of goodbyes and repeated admonitions, they were out the door. “Let’s take the Impala,” Dean said suddenly. “It’s been too long since I’ve had her out on the road.”

 

Cas helped Dean pull the tarp off and slid into the passenger seat. The car started up, the engine a familiar rumble, and Dean patted the steering wheel affectionately. “Good girl,” he murmured, and then glanced over at Cas with a grin. “Just like old times, huh?”

 

Cas relaxed back into the seat. “Just like.”

 

~~~~~

 

Rapid City was a relatively easy drive from Cypress Grove. They bounced around a bit as they went over rough patches, but Dean maneuvered the vehicle expertly, dodging the worst of the holes.

 

The sun had already set by the time they rolled past the city limits, and Dean found a motel with its vacancy sign illuminated. They paid for the room, just for one night, and Dean asked about a place to eat.

 

The proprietor rubbed his jaw. “Well, there’s a grocery store down the way that has a deli attached. They’ve got pretty good sandwiches. Otherwise, there’s a diner on the other side of town.”

 

Dean glanced at Cas, his eyes asking a silent question. “It’s up to you,” Cas replied.

 

“What are the prices like at the diner?” Dean asked.

 

“Not as bad as they could be,” the man replied. “But the deli’s cheaper.”

 

“How are their burgers?” Dean pressed.

 

“Best this side of the state,” came the response. “If you ask me, it’s worth it.”

 

“Thanks.” Dean led the way out of the motel office. “Cas?”

 

“I could eat a burger,” Cas replied, knowing how much Dean wanted one.

 

It wasn’t that they never had burgers, but when they did get ground meat, it was easier to stretch it by using it in soup, or tomato sauce, or something similar. They needed half as much meat to feed the five of them that way, and there were times when that little bit made a lot of difference.

 

Burgers were a luxury they couldn’t often afford, but they had a little money now, and they both needed to eat. An opportunity to eat someone else’s cooking was an event worth taking advantage of.

 

The diner was well lit, crowded with green vinyl booths and battered metal tables, with a long counter dominating one wall. Dean took a deep breath as they entered, his grin wide and happy. “Smell that, Cas?” he asked.

 

Cas could detect the odor of grease and cooking meat, and he wasn’t sure why that excited Dean, but he nodded anyway. When they sat down, a bored-looking waitress immediately approached their table. “What can I get for you?” she asked.

 

“Two cheeseburgers, and fries to share,” Dean ordered for both of them.

 

“Anything to drink?”

 

Dean shook his head. “No, just water.”

 

Cas realized belatedly that he hadn’t asked Dean how much money Maryanne had given them. “How are we doing on cash?” he asked in a whisper.

 

“We’ve got enough for a shopping trip,” Dean assured him. “We’ll probably need to hit the pawn shops and secondhand stores, but I doubt the kids will care.”

 

“What are we giving them?” Cas asked. He had no idea what a child might want for Christmas.

 

Dean shrugged. “We get them things they’d like. Books and clothes for Mary. She’s easy. Henry would probably like an erector set if we can find one.” He smiled reflectively. “It’s probably past time for Ben to get his first gun. Maybe we can find a decent rifle for him.”

 

“He’d like that,” Cas agreed. “I know he likes using your rifle, but I think he’d be happy to have one of his own.”

 

“I was younger than Ben is now when Dad gave me my first gun,” Dean reflected. “I still have it.”

 

Cas smiled. “What do you want for Christmas?”

 

Dean shook his head. “What I want isn’t something Santa Claus can provide,” he replied bitterly.

 

The arrival of their food spared Cas from having to reply, but he can’t get Dean’s words out of his mind. He was fairly certain that what Dean really wanted for Christmas was to have Sam back, and there was nothing Cas could do to give that to him.

 

Cas knew that Dean needed him, but he also knew that Dean wouldn’t be truly happy until Sam returned.

 

The conversation shifted to more neutral topics—their plans for the next couple of weeks, how the kids’ schooling was progressing, what kind of supplies they might want to buy while they were in Rapid City. The cheeseburgers were good—greasy and juicy with just the right amount of cheese, and the fries were crisp on the outside and starchy inside.

 

They headed back to the motel, full and satisfied, and when they arrived back at their room, Cas immediately began to rummage in his bag for the bottle of Jack he’d stashed.

 

Dean stared in disbelief when Cas held it up. “Where’d you get that?”

 

“Ernest gave it to me, for helping out,” Cas replied. “I thought I’d save it for a special occasion.”

 

Dean glanced around the room. “And this is special?”

 

The room was nothing special—a single king-size bed was its only luxury. There was no television, and the carpet showed obvious wear. The bedspread was green and blue, a vaguely geometric pattern that made Cas a bit ill to look at.

 

There was nothing remarkable about this room, other than the fact that Cas hadn’t had a single night alone with Dean since they’d picked Ben up in Cicero.

 

“There are no children here,” Cas said quietly. “No responsibilities. We do not have to be up early tomorrow, nor do we have to worry about a child needing us in the night. I think that’s special.”

 

Dean’s expression softened. “When you put it that way…”

 

There were no glasses, and Cas broke the seal and passed the bottle to Dean. “Go ahead.”

 

Dean took a healthy swig and closed his eyes, a blissful expression crossing his face. “It’s been too long.”

 

“You don’t drink much in front of the kids,” Cas observed.

 

Dean shrugged. “Who has the money for it these days? Besides, I promised myself I wouldn’t be drunk in front of them, you know? Dad got wasted around us a few times, and it wasn’t fun.”

 

Cas took a sip from the bottle when Dean offered it, but he let the silence hang. He sensed that Dean was in an expansive mood, and he knew from experience that if he held his tongue, Dean was more likely to talk.

 

“I should have thought of this,” Dean said after a while, when the level of liquid in the bottle had decreased considerably.

 

“Thought of what?”

 

“Christmas.” Dean took another drink. “I dealt with this sort of thing with Sam. I should have remembered that kids like Christmas.”

 

Cas accepted the bottle in return, although he didn’t drink as deeply as Dean had. “I’m not sure I understand,” he admitted.

 

Dean flopped back onto the ugly bedspread. “Sam probably wasn’t much older than Henry is now,” he began. “Dad had left on one of his hunts, so it was just the two of us in this motel room. He promised he’d be back by Christmas, but the job went long.”

 

Cas knew all of this in some sense. He had pieced Dean back together after retrieving him from Hell, and he’d been inside Dean’s mind while he was still an angel. But the last two years had taught him that seeing Dean’s memories was vastly different than having Dean _tell_ him what he remembered, and Castiel much preferred the latter.

 

“I did what I could,” Dean continued. “It wasn’t much. I stole a couple of presents, and decorated a little, but they were chick presents. Sam gave me that amulet—you know the one.”

 

Cas thought of the amulet Dean had lent him that was now tucked away in a corner of their sock drawer. “I know the one.”

 

“He was going to give it to Dad, but he gave it to me, because I was there, and I was trying,” Dean said. “Other than the Christmas we had before I went to Hell, that was the best one.”

 

Cas stretched out next to him. “I know you miss him,” he said, laying a cautious hand on Dean’s chest, half-expecting Dean to push him away.

 

“It’s okay,” Dean said, staring at him with drunken sincerity. “It’s okay. You’re enough. You and the kids—it’s okay.”

 

Cas thought Dean might be trying to convince himself more than anything else, so he stopped Dean’s words with a kiss.

 

It had been awhile since they’d touched each other with this kind of intent. Three kids and any number of responsibilities meant that about the only thing they did in bed lately was sleep.

 

Now, though, Dean reached for him insistently, pushing his hands up under Cas’ t-shirt, fumbling at his jeans.

 

“Easy,” Cas urged, pulling his shirt over his head and shucking out of his jeans in a quick move. “I’ve got you. We have time.”

 

He got Dean undressed, since he was still uncoordinated from the alcohol and probably lack of sleep, and he ran his hand down Dean’s chest, rubbing a thumb over the tattoo above Dean’s heart.

 

“Fuck me,” Dean demanded.

 

Cas felt a wave of desire crash over him. Dean didn’t offer to bottom often, but when he did, it was usually because he wanted something a little rougher. “Anything you want,” Cas promised.

 

He snagged his duffel bag and rummaged for the lube, and then grabbed a pillow to shove under Dean’s hips. Dean’s injury made finding a position a little more difficult, but Cas knew Dean’s body as well as he knew his own, and he was careful to make sure he didn’t put any strain on Dean’s bad leg.

 

Moving slowly and carefully, Cas slid first one, then two fingers inside, and Dean chanted, “Come on, Cas. Come on.”

 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cas warned him. “We have a long car ride ahead of us, remember?”

 

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Dean growled.

 

Cas gave him a feral grin. “You’re right, I’m not.”

 

He took his time, even though Dean cursed at him, but when Cas pushed inside Dean’s body, he did so all at once. Dean groaned and gripped Cas’ hips tightly. “Finally.”

 

“Don’t I always take care of you?” Cas demanded, thrusting hard, hearing Dean’s cry of pleasure as he hit Dean’s prostate.

 

“Yeah, yeah, you do,” Dean said.

 

Cas set a hard pace and closed his hand around Dean’s cock, jacking Dean off. Dean came with a cry over Cas’ hand, and Cas kept thrusting, his own release not far behind. He collapsed on the bed next to Dean, and Dean reached out to run a hand through Cas’ hair, clasping the back of his neck.

 

“Thank you,” Dean murmured.

 

“I should be thanking you,” Cas countered.

 

Dean shook his head. “No, not for that. For everything else. For being here.”

 

Cas smiled. “Where else would I be?”

 

~~~~~

 

The next day was spent shopping. They had a late start, sleeping in until well after the sun had risen, but they still managed to get presents purchased for the kids and Maryanne by early afternoon.

 

Dean’s mood seemed much improved as they bought presents, both new and used. By purchasing from pawnshops and secondhand stores, they were able to stretch their money considerably. The Impala’s trunk was full by the time they headed back towards Cypress Grove.

 

Cas was just as relaxed as Dean seemed to be. It had been a long time since he’d been able to spend any time alone with Dean, and he found that he was looking forward to seeing the kids.

 

When they pulled up in front of the house after the sun had set, Dean said, “I guess absence really does make the heart grow fonder.”

 

Cas chuckled. “You missed them, too?”

 

“After the last week, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to say that,” Dean admitted. “Come on, let’s see what kind of damage Maryanne and the kids did.”

 

They walked into a house redolent with the scents of evergreen and cinnamon, and Mary and Henry charged down the hall just as Cas closed the door behind them. Henry had crumbs on his chin and the front of his pajamas; Mary flung herself at Cas before pulling back, her hands moving so quickly that Cas couldn’t catch what she signed.

 

“Okay, okay!” Dean said, laughing. “Slow down, both of you.”

 

Ben emerged from the study with his hands shoved in his pockets, clearly trying to appear cool. “Hey, Dad.”

 

“Come here,” Dean said, pulling Ben into a rough hug. “Did you guys behave for Miss Maryanne?”

 

“Oh, they were near-perfect angels,” Maryanne said, coming out of the study to join them in the hall. “And now that you’re home, it’s time for me to seek my own bed.”

 

Henry pouted. “Do you have to leave, Miss Maryanne? We like having you here!”

 

She smiled. “And that makes me feel good, but I’ll see you again before you know it.”

 

“You’re going to be here for Christmas, right?” Ben asked.

 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she promised, and then hugged each of the kids in turn. “Be sure to show Dean and Cas all your hard work,” she ordered. “And behave.”

 

Henry was already dragging Dean down the hallway. “Wait ‘til you see the tree!” he enthused.

 

Cas had very little experience with Christmas decorations, so he had no basis for comparison, but the tree was pretty. It was no taller than Dean, with colored lights and an assortment of things hung on the branches. He leaned in to get a better look as Dean asked, “Where did all this come from?”

 

“Miss Maryanne said she had a bunch of extra stuff,” Henry said. “And Ben cut down the tree, but Mr. Howl helped, and _he_ had some ornaments, too. And Miss Maryanne had mistletoe, and you have to kiss if you get caught under it!”

 

“I’ve heard that,” Dean replied with a grin. “What else?”

 

“There are cookies!” Henry said, his face lit with joy. “But some you can’t eat—you’re only supposed to put them on the tree.”

 

“Well, you have any cookies I can eat?” Dean asked.

 

Mary ran off to get them, and Dean looked at Ben. “Did everything go okay?”

 

Ben shrugged. “Yeah. Miss Maryanne’s really nice.”

 

“She is,” Dean agreed.

 

The kids eventually wound down, and once they were well and truly asleep, Dean and Cas snuck the presents inside, hiding them under the bed in their room, and in their closet.

 

“It was good to see Henry and Mary so excited,” Cas observed.

 

Dean nodded. “Did Ben seem all right to you?”

 

Cas slid into bed next to Dean. “I think he’ll be fine. This year will at least be better than last.”

 

Dean spooned up behind him. “Yeah, I think it probably will.”

 

~~~~~

 

Over the next week, as they counted down the days until Christmas, Henry and Mary seemed to practically vibrate with excitement. Even Ben, who seemed intent on not demonstrating anything resembling enthusiasm, appeared to be getting into the spirit.

 

Dean invited Maryanne over for dinner on Christmas Eve, and to spend the night, since she’d be spending Christmas Day with them anyway. She arrived Christmas Eve with a huge ham and a bag of groceries.

 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Cas objected as he took one of the bags from her.

 

“Nonsense. This is part of my gift to you,” she replied. “But I’ll need your help in the kitchen.”

 

“Of course,” he promised.

 

In the end, they put everyone to work peeling potatoes or stirring vegetables on the stove, or setting the table. There were people underfoot every time Cas turned around, but he didn’t mind the chaos. Henry was chattering away, and Mary signed quickly whenever her hands weren’t full.

 

Maryanne whipped up some redeye gravy that had Dean in ecstasy, and along with the mashed potatoes, green beans, and creamed corn, it was a dinner to remember.

 

Once they’d cleared up, Maryanne said, “You know, in my family it was tradition to open one present on Christmas Eve.”

 

Henry bounced in his seat. “Yeah! Please? Papa Dean, Papa Cas, please?”

 

Cas glanced at Dean helplessly, and Dean shrugged. “I guess that would work,” Dean said slowly.

 

“Good,” Maryanne said. “I have the gifts.”

 

Cas blinked, a little surprised. “Really?”

 

“You’ll see,” Maryanne replied, leading the way to the living room. Cas realized that she’d put the packages from one of her bags under the tree already, and as they sat down, Maryanne began to pass out her wrapped gifts, until they all had a package, other than Maryanne.

 

“In my family,” Maryanne began, “we always got new pajamas, so we could have our pictures taken in new clothes Christmas morning without getting dressed. Go ahead.”

 

The kids started ripping into their gifts, and Cas watched as Ben and Henry opened flannel pants and t-shirts, and Mary opened a flannel nightgown.

 

“Did you make these?” Ben asked.

 

Maryanne smiled. “I did.”

 

“They’re awesome!” Ben enthused.

 

Cas shared a look with Dean, who grinned and shrugged.

 

“Open yours,” Maryanne urged.

 

Their pajamas were in different colors of plaid, but they were soft and well made, and Dean and Cas said in unison, “Thank you.”

 

Maryanne laughed. “You’re quite welcome. I hope you enjoy them.”

 

“They’re great,” Dean said for both of them.

 

They ate cookies and drank hot chocolate until late that night, when Dean finally insisted that the kids go to bed. “And don’t even think about waking us before the sun is up,” Dean warned them. “We’re up late, so we sleep late. And the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner Christmas comes.”

 

As soon as the kids were asleep, Maryanne helped them put the gifts under the tree. “The kids are going to be thrilled,” she said.

 

“I hope so,” Dean replied. He surveyed the packages under the tree with his arms crossed. “That looks good.”

 

“It’s going to be a good Christmas,” Maryanne replied.

 

They went up to their bedroom, and Dean said, “I know it’s late, but—”

 

“I’ve got the energy,” Cas replied.

 

They stripped down, and Dean pushed Cas back on the bed. “Hang on.”

 

Cas was happy to comply, and he gasped as Dean’s mouth covered his cock. “Dean.”

 

Dean didn’t stop, he just kept moving his mouth up and down, using his hand to cover the base of Cas’ cock, sucking him off. Cas murmured a warning when he was about to come, but Dean didn’t stop. Cas came with Dean’s mouth on him, and Dean swallowed, wiping his mouth afterward.

 

Dean stretched out on the bed next to Cas, jacking himself off slowly as Cas watched.

 

“You should let me do that,” Cas murmured.

 

Dean grinned. “Yeah, I should,” he said as he came. “Another time.”

 

“I think we’d better get cleaned up and get to sleep,” Cas said. “You know Henry’s going to be in here as soon as the sun is up.”

 

Dean grabbed a pair of discarded boxers and cleaned them off. “Go to sleep, Cas.”

 

Cas didn’t need to be told twice.

 

~~~~~

 

As expected, Henry burst into their room as soon as the sun was above the horizon. “Papa Dean! Papa Cas! It’s Christmas!”

 

Cas groaned as Henry jumped on the bed. “We’ll be down in a minute.”

 

“There are presents!” Henry protested. “You have to come _now_.”

 

“We don’t _have_ to do anything,” Dean replied. “Give us a minute.”

 

When Henry had dashed out of the room, Dean asked, “Why did we do this again?”

 

Cas chuckled. “Because it makes them happy, that’s why. Come on, let’s get up.”

 

They took their time making coffee and eating breakfast, even though all three kids wolfed down the cinnamon rolls that Maryanne had made. Maryanne was complicit in their intent to torture the kids, because she sipped her coffee and gossiped about various folks in Cypress Grove without so much as acknowledging the holiday.

 

The courtesy that he and Dean had drilled into the kids held only so long, and then Henry burst out, “But Papa Dean! There are presents under the tree!”

 

Dean laughed. “I guess I forgot. You’d better go open them, then.”

 

All three kids raced into the living room, with the adults not far behind, and they ripped through wrapping paper until it looked like there had been a blizzard. Henry exclaimed over the set of Hardy Boys mysteries they’d found, as well as the secondhand erector set—and that had been a stroke of luck, Cas thought. Mary began paging through one of her new books with her new clothes spread across her lap. Ben caressed the butt of his rifle, and the hilt of his hunting knife.

 

Maryanne’s presents consisted of knitted hats, scarves, and socks for everyone, and she seemed inordinately pleased when she opened her box to reveal a new set of cookware and a digital thermometer. Cas knew she made most of the candy she sold, and she’d been complaining about how her old thermometer wasn’t accurate enough.

 

“This is perfect!” she exclaimed. “Thank you!”

 

They all pitched in to clean up, and ate sandwiches made from the leftover ham. Maryanne announced that she had a few people to visit yet, and said her goodbyes.

 

“Thank you,” Cas murmured in her ear. “I think I know what you meant now.”

 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

 

Dean whispered something to her that made her hug him fiercely. And then she hugged the kids and was out the door.

 

That afternoon, at least, peace reigned. Henry and Ben actually played together without fighting, and Mary read one of her new books. Cas watched them, leaning against Dean on the couch, and feeling remarkably content.

 

Dean put an arm around Cas’ shoulders. “Looks like our first Christmas was a success.”

 

“I suppose it was,” Cas replied with a smile. “Although I don’t have any basis for comparison.”

 

“Compared to the ones I’ve had, it ranks right up there.”

 

Cas heard the lingering sadness in Dean’s voice, and he twisted to kiss Dean, keeping it light.

 

Dean cupped his cheek. “I’m okay,” he promised.

 

“I know,” Cas replied, settling back against Dean. “We all are.”

 

And today, that was enough.


End file.
